


Infidelity

by writinginthesecrettrees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Episode: s02e02 Everybody Loves a Clown, First Time, M/M, Past John Winchester/Dean Winchester, Top Sam Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, angsty smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinginthesecrettrees/pseuds/writinginthesecrettrees
Summary: The last time Dean did something this monumentally stupid was right after Sam went to chase after a college degree and the picket fence life.





	Infidelity

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks [Tina](https://ohnoitsthebat.tumblr.com/) for the beta!

It feels like infidelity. 

Dad is dead, newly burned in a hunter’s funeral, ashes probably still warm, when Dean wraps himself around Sam and pulls him into a desperate kiss, and he wants to cry because it feels unfaithful. Sam makes a confused sound, but his arms close around Dean, holding Dean in place while Sam takes control, angles his head slightly and strokes his tongue gently along Dean’s lips. 

It’s good, and it’s not fair, because Dad’s dead and nothing should feel good like this anymore, but it’s Sam and Sam’s all that’s left and Dad said- 

_(you gotta watch out for sammy)_

Dean shoves the thought away by shoving his hand down Sam’s pants, finds him hot and hard and already dripping at the tip. His hand closes around Sam’s cock, and Sam breaks away from their kiss, looks like he’s about to speak so Dean gives it a tug, tangles his free hand in Sam’s hair and yanks his head back down so hard their teeth clank together. It tastes like blood. 

_(you gotta take care of him)_

The last time Dean did something this monumentally stupid was right after Sam went to chase after a college degree and the picket fence life. Dad had seemed pretty happy with the change, until he up and vanished and left Dean alone again. 

They’d never done exclusive. Countless nights when he would fall in bed with Dad, one or both of them still smelling of sex and someone else’s perfume, and Dean has never felt unfaithful before now. Maybe it’s because of what Dad said before-

_(you have to save him, dean)_

Sam’s making tiny thrusts into his hand, breathless moans into his mouth, and this isn’t enough because Dean’s brain is still spinning. Dean pulls his hand out of Sam’s pants, ignores the squeak of protest, and climbs up Sam until he can wrap his legs around Sam’s waist and grind against him. 

Sam catches on fast, and Dean finds himself slammed down, back pressed to the cool steel of his baby’s hood (still mangled and held on with duct tape and hope) and chest pressed down by baby brother. Sam fumbles at his belt, somehow manages to get Dean’s fly undone without catching him in the zipper before stepping back to push his own jeans down to his knees.

_(nothing else matters)_

Dean can’t look at him, slightly confused but eager puppy with his stupid hair flopping all over. Tells Sam “glovebox” and focuses on getting his boots off. His jeans are still hanging off one ankle when Sam’s back, fully naked and a tube of lube in his hand. Dean looks away, lets his head fall back against the car, and Sam’s just _there,_ sucking along his throat and nipping at his skin and sliding lower, lower, tasting every inch between Dean’s throat and his dick. Sam’s mouth closes over him, pushes down along his length, and Dean arches up, finally looks down at his brother on his knees in the dirt and that’s a mistake because Sam is looking back up at him, eyes wide with wonder and adoration and mouth stretched wide around his cock and it feels like infidelity when slick fingers press into him.

_(not me, not the demon, not any of it)_

He’s fucked other men, but he hasn’t bottomed since Dad left. Hasn’t wanted to, with anyone else, and he’s tight enough that it burns but _fuck_ Sammy sucks like a pro. Has him too close too fast, and Dean slides his fingers through Sam’s hair, tugs desperately at it until Sam pulls off and climbs up over him, miles of muscle pressing against him, palms running up his thighs and encouraging Dean’s legs up around his waist. Sam nuzzles at Dean, presses openmouth kisses into his neck, his cheek, his jaw, and could he just “Fucking _fuck me_ already would you?”

He half expects Sam to stop, try to talk this to death too, but he just says _“God,_ yes,” sounds like he’s coming apart, and Dean’s impatience means that Sam’s first push inside feels like he’s going to break in half. Sam’s trying to go slow, trying for gentle and it makes Dean ache in the worst way, like he’s about to shatter. 

_(you just gotta save sammy)_

Dean digs the bitten down stubs of his nails into Sam’s back, his heels into Sam’s ass, and Sam cries out as he’s pulled sudden and sharp into Dean. And Sam’s still not moving, just holding motionless, buried in Dean’s ass until Dean sinks his teeth into his shoulder and it’s like something inside Sam breaks free. 

He pulls back, almost out, and slams back into Dean, thrusts hard and fast and deep, and his cock scrapes over Dean’s prostate and the force of his thrusts scrapes Dean’s back over the crumpled metal beneath him. 

Sam’s panting against his ear, a constant stream of whispers punctuated with gasping breaths - “so good, _god,_ so good Dean, want you need you love you love you love you,” over and over until Dean wants to scream but he can’t form words around the pounding of Sam’s cock, can barely form thoughts but barely is still too much.

_(because, dean, if you can’t)_

Dad never talked, never pressed desperate kisses into his hair, his cheeks, his throat, never ducked his head to try to catch Dean’s eye while they fucked and Sam does and it feels amazing and so so wrong. Sam’s hand strokes down his side, soothing contrast to rough thrusts pushing them both closer to the edge. He nuzzles at Dean’s cheek, eyes dark and full of something Dean can’t handle so Dean tips his head back, offers his neck for Sam’s lips and squeezes his eyes shut against the sun.

_(what that demon plans for him)_

Sam’s hand finds Dean’s head, long fingers still slick with lube thread through his hair and hold him in place for Sam to pull him back into a kiss, all wet and tongue and teeth and Dean shouts into Sam’s mouth as he comes hot and sticky between them. Sam follows, thrusting deep and filling Dean and Dean can feel the pulses inside him, feels it leaking out when Sam pulls out, leaves him lying on the hood of his car. Sam’s back in an instant, uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe Dean down and Dean twitches a little when soft cotton swipes over his hole.

“Sorry,” Sam whispers, dropping his shirt on the ground before clambering onto the hood, lying down beside Dean. He reaches out, slings an arm around Dean’s waist, tucks his face into the crook of his neck, makes happy sounds and fucking _cuddles_ him and Dean just lets him. He’s still whispering, but Dean can’t hear him over the pounding words echoing in his head.

_(you’ll have to kill him)_

It feels like infidelity.


End file.
